The white men—whose boats had been left some six miles in their rear—halted upon the left bank, opposite to the watchful Maori. Puaha, a Christian native, who had all along attempted to dissuade Mr. Thompson from bearding Te Rauparaha in his den, made a last effort to induce the magistrate to turn back, but was impatiently waved aside. The escort were then formed in two divisions under Captain England and Mr. Howard, their instructions being that no one was to fire without orders.
Athwart the stream lay a large canoe and, being permitted to use this as a bridge, Mr. Thompson, Captain Wakefield and others crossed over. The magistrate then produced his warrant and called upon Te Rauparaha to surrender and yield to his authority.
"Why so?" demanded the chief.
"For burning the surveyor's hut," was the answer.
"I will not," replied Te Rauparaha. "The huts were my property, and whatever within them belonged to the surveyors I was careful to restore. I do not wish to fight, as you must know, since I have already referred my claim to the Commissioner for adjustment."
"Then I shall compel you to come with me," Mr. Thompson cried excitedly. "I have the means, you see," and he pointed to the escort across the stream.
Te Rauparaha growled. "Nevertheless, I will not go," he began, when Rangihaeata, his passion in strong contrast to Te Rauparaha's coolness, burst into view and dared Mr. Thompson to do his worst.
"Advance with your men, Captain England," shouted Mr. Thompson, "and teach these——"
Before he could say more every Maori there leaped to his feet, and with defiant shouts vanished into the bush.
Then followed one of those fatal errors by which great catastrophes have often been precipitated. As Mr. Thompson's party hurried towards the canoe-bridge, the escort rushing down to meet them, some one—probably highly excited and unconscious of what he was about—fired a shot.